[ that first full push of his cock inside her has her groaning against his kiss, too, and she's glad that his mouth is covering hers because it's not the most lady-like sound. it's agonized in all the best ways because she cannot remember anything feeling so incredible and so unfulfilling at the same time. he's there, deep inside her, and her body craves more. more of him, more of this, more of everything.
it's not just the rain; everything they've every done, every touch, every glance... it's all brought them to this, as if she's always known -scythe or not - that she was going to have this with rowan damisch. if not consciously, her body knew it and surrounds him with a wet, pulling heat as he starts to fuck her. only then does she break their kiss and cry out again. ]
Rowan--
[ it's begging and needy and she doesn't even know what she wants from him now that he's given in to this much. her body echoes his movements naturally, the rhythm something that comes as if she's just known what to do. even awkwardly on the couch, she stretches and arches up into his thrusts, every feel of his cock drawing more sounds from her. ]
[ He gasps out her name like a prayer-- if he even knew what that sounds like. But it's awed and overwhelmed and grateful, in a way, utterly lost in pleasure and the moment. He repeats her name as he kisses his way hungrily down her neck, sucking kisses and the bare graze of teeth.
Rowan tries to keep a steady rhythm but cannot help himself. It builds, faster and harder in increments with every thrust. He does not kiss her lips again, wanting to hear her say his name again, wanting to make her gasp and moan and know that he's doing well by the sounds she makes. He's keen to find that perfect balance, that rhythm of exactly what she wants. ]
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it's not just the rain; everything they've every done, every touch, every glance... it's all brought them to this, as if she's always known -scythe or not - that she was going to have this with rowan damisch. if not consciously, her body knew it and surrounds him with a wet, pulling heat as he starts to fuck her. only then does she break their kiss and cry out again. ]
Rowan--
[ it's begging and needy and she doesn't even know what she wants from him now that he's given in to this much. her body echoes his movements naturally, the rhythm something that comes as if she's just known what to do. even awkwardly on the couch, she stretches and arches up into his thrusts, every feel of his cock drawing more sounds from her. ]
no subject
[ He gasps out her name like a prayer-- if he even knew what that sounds like. But it's awed and overwhelmed and grateful, in a way, utterly lost in pleasure and the moment. He repeats her name as he kisses his way hungrily down her neck, sucking kisses and the bare graze of teeth.
Rowan tries to keep a steady rhythm but cannot help himself. It builds, faster and harder in increments with every thrust. He does not kiss her lips again, wanting to hear her say his name again, wanting to make her gasp and moan and know that he's doing well by the sounds she makes. He's keen to find that perfect balance, that rhythm of exactly what she wants. ]